


A Noble Knight

by mariuspondmercy



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 15:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/pseuds/mariuspondmercy
Summary: As a knight, Courfeyrac has a tough life. He needs to ride a horse, fight with a sword, and rescue beautiful people.





	A Noble Knight

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tumblr prompt - Kiss Of Life - and since it turned out to be 1.7k long, I decided to crosspost it on here!

Quite frankly speaking, Courfeyrac was exhausted. Every muscle hurt, even the muscles he didn’t know existed! He dismounted his horse and took off the helmet, shaking out his curls. 

“I know, Stacy,” he addressed the mare. “But we only have one more tower on our list for today.”

Courfeyrac looked up at the tower covered in vines and sighed a deep sigh. 

“Lunch break first, Stacy. Then I can fight my way through the thick rose bushes and liberate another princess, hopefully.” 

He rifled through the horse’s saddlebags and made sure to feed the mare first before taking off his boots and dunk the feet into the cold stream he was sitting at. Next to him, Stacy quenched her thirst, whinnying occasionally. Courfeyrac was on a mission. As a knight, he had sworn to help and protect those who needed a saviour. Recently, there had been an influx of kidnapped princesses, princesses put under curses and princesses turned into animals. Why it was always the princesses, Courfeyrac couldn’t say. It was honestly a little sexist. But maybe the abduction of princes was not as often observed as it was more common for princes to carry swords with them. Swords could stab people. 

“Alright Stacy, I guess it’s time to get the sword and cut down all these pretty flowers, hm?” 

The horse gave no response. Courfeyrac sighed and got up. He brushed the dirt from his breeches, tied Stacy to a tree and stretched. You couldn’t hack through roses upon roses without stretching first. It was hard work for the muscles in your arms and legs, and Courfeyrac would like to avoid hurting himself. While this was the third and last tower for the day, it was also the most complicated to get inside. And even then it wasn’t granted that a kidnapped princess was to be found. Sometimes a tower covered in flowers and vines was just a tower covered in flowers and vines. But Courfeyrac still had to investigate. Not that a knight’s code was necessary for that. He had sworn an oath, but King Marius and Queen Cosette had changed it from swearing unyielding loyalty to swearing to help those in need and act according to the people’s best interests, even if that meant acting against king or queen. 

Gathering his sword, Courfeyrac kind of hoped he wouldn’t meet a princess in the tower. Princesses needed to be taken back to the castle, to be examined for wounds and to talk to the court psychiatrist because being kidnapped or changed into a hippo really had quite the impact on someone. Not that Courfeyrac thought these things futile. He’d happily rescue a princess! But he was incredibly tired and would like to use the tower as shelter, as he was a day’s ride away from his home town, Corinthe. He had taken a princess back home today already, but that was in the early morning hours of the day. Now the sun was already setting and it took Courfeyrac until it had fully vanished to finally reach the door of the tower. He lit his torch and knocked on the door. 

“Hello? Anyone here?” 

No answer. Courfeyrac resigned himself to his fate and started climbing the tower’s stairs. Every room had to be inspected, every corner had to be turned upside-down. He stumbled a few times, but by now he was certain this tower wasn’t just a tower. He could feel the magic within, felt it inside his veins, wrapping around his heart. It was warm magic, similar to his own. Quite different from Marius’ magic, which felt very cool and silent. Or Enjolras’ magic, which was hot but loud. This one was silent and warm. A cool breeze of magic, though, promised the existence of another source of magic in the tower. 

“Why do the villains always have to trap the people at the top?” Courfeyrac muttered to himself as he came to a stop in front of the last room. 

He took a few minutes to gather his breath - you don’t want to be panting from climbing the stairs when rescuing a princess - before he pushed the door open. Courfeyrac quickly scanned the room for any threats but there were none to be seen. He moved inside, drawing back the curtains hiding…

“You’re not a princess,” Courfeyrac blurted. 

Indeed, not a princess, but a sleeping man. A man who, despite his dark complexion, looked pale and near to death. A check of his pulse told Courfeyrac that the man was still living, thankfully. 

“What to do now? If I knew who you are, I could send for your mother or father. They would know more about the spell! You seem much taller than me, I doubt I could get you out of here to take you to Corinthe for Joly to work his magic on you.” 

Courfeyrac sighed. He had no useful magical powers, not in such situations. He was able to heal through physical contact, but he couldn’t detect curses or brew potions. So he sat down on the edge of the bed, scanning what was visible of the body for injuries. He wouldn’t lift the blanket - the unconscious person couldn’t give his consent, so it wasn’t ethical. He picked up the man’s hand and gently squeezed it. There was a barely noticeable hitch in the guy’s shallow breathing pattern which had Courfeyrac interested. 

“Okay, so… physical contact?” 

He squeezed the man’s hand again, his breath hitched again. Courfeyrac moved his hand to rest on the man’s cheek, stroking gently. Another hitch. He hummed thoughtfully and brought the hand up to his lips, kissing the knuckles. A deep breath. Okay, so kissing was more effective. He couldn’t kiss him! That was unethical! Maybe… 

Courfeyrac ducked down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He nervously observed the sleeping beauty (because he was truly a beauty). He stirred in his sleep, scrunching his nose. Courfeyrac’s heart leapt in his chest. He was truly, royally fucked. 

Despite all the stirring, the man didn’t wake. Courfeyrac groaned. Who even used Kisses Of Life or True Love’s Kisses anymore? They were highly scrutinised and a much more severe punishment followed if a sorceress or sorcerer was caught using them. Sometimes, a punishment even followed for the kisser. It was unethical, abusive to kiss a sleeping person against their will. So either this was a particularly mean sorceress or sorcerer or the curse was already ancient. Well. Maybe not ancient. King Marius had only been a king for five years now, with the law becoming effective in his third year of reign. It seems as if Courfeyrac would need to apologise to the prince as well as explain the situation to his King and Queen. Taking a deep breath, Courfeyrac bent down again and pressed a quick kiss against the man’s lips. 

He waited with anticipation, gathering his wits that maybe he should stand and not sit on the bed. Quickly, Courfeyrac stood up and ran a hand through his curls, giving them hopefully a different look than ‘stuck under a helmet for an entire day’. 

Slowly, the man opened his eyes. With a jolt, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around wildly. He pointed a finger at Courfeyrac once he spotted him. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m Sir De Courfeyrac, pleased to meet you. You were enchanted and locked inside this tower. We have the year 1064. Do you remember anything that happened?” 

“I seem to have misplaced my glasses.” The man frowned and felt around the nightstand, the mattress. “You haven’t seen my glasses, have you? They are round.” 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

The man sighed and nodded. “Thank you. You don’t happen to have some water? It seems I was asleep for two years.” 

Courfeyrac handed him his waterskin and smiled. “There you go. Drink as much as you like, I have another one with my horse downstairs. I’m from Corinthe.It would be my pleasure to bring you there in the morning, have you checked by our court physician and psychiatrist, and then accompany you on your way to your kingdom, my prince.” 

The man quickly emptied the waterskin before squinting at Courfeyrac. “I’m sorry, I cannot see well. I’m not a prince. I’m not even royalty. I love on the outskirts of Corinthe. I only moved back there… it seems like three years ago.” He snorted. “And two of those years I spent trapped and unconscious.”

“It is unusual for someone to kidnap a commoner,” Courfeyrac mused, “no matter how handsome he might be…”

“You think me handsome?”

“I’m so sorry! That was uncalled for. I broke the spell with a kiss, I apologise deeply. It was not my intention to abuse you. I am well aware of the consequences and will report it to my King.” 

“King Marius?”

“Yes. I am his knight. And as such, I have sworn an oath.”

“Okay. He’s kind, as is his queen. I delivered them a book once, with their sword. They invited me for dinner. You see, I was trying to establish a new forge. I am originally from Corinthe but travelled to gain more insights into other ways of forging swords and chain mail. I came back when my father had passed away. Curious we seem to have never met.” 

“Curious indeed, but I didn’t grow up in Corinthe. I grew up in a small village two days on foot away. I only came to the town shortly before King Marius’ coronation. He made me a knight upon saving him. Well, I did have to prove myself but I am loyal to him and his wife.” 

The man smiled softly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you my name! You may call me Combeferre. Thank you for rescuing me. Should we spend the night here and go back to Corinthe in the morning?”

“That would be the best course of action.” 

They decided to move to a lower level of the tower, Courfeyrac filling Combeferre in on all the gossip he had missed in the past two years. He had to keep holding Combeferre’s hand on their way down as Combeferre had tripped and nearly fallen down the stairs, being unable to see well without his glasses. The contact kept sending little sparks through his entire body. So much that he felt cold when they separated to gather Courfeyrac’s provisions and check on his mare. They spent a quiet evening together; Combeferre felt still exhausted so they agreed he would get to sleep first. Courfeyrac took the first watch and if he forced him to stay awake longer than necessary, no one needed to know. 


End file.
